sevenvices | week 0 - introduction

seven vices introduction

♫

monday
At promptly 9AM Monday morning, every television in the hotel turns on. For a moment, static blares loud enough to wake anyone still sleeping, but it quickly fades out into a patternless gray image. After a few seconds of silence, a woman begins speaking.

"Good morning. Thank you for waiting so patiently the past two days."

Her voice is soft and easy on the ears, albeit a little flat and monotone.

"If you would please gather in the chapel within the next half hour, we will be happy to provide you with answers pertaining to the current situation."

Anyone not in their rooms will hear the voice echoing throughout the town as if via speaker system, though there are no actual speakers visible. Those who purposefully dawdle and delay going to the chapel will be subjected to their alarm clocks going off until they get up and leave.

Upon entering the chapel, everyone will find that candles have been lit, and a small table with various pastries, simple sandwiches, and juices has been set up in front of the altar. More importantly, though, are the 36 booklets placed on the pews. Curiously, they contain photos and profiles of everyone in the town--some with startling details. There are also a few blank pages near the end.

After the last person enters, the doors lock. The chapel is tiny, and very much cramped with 36 people inside, though the pews are still numerous enough to accommodate everyone--just barely. But you may as well get comfy, because it won't be another half-hour until someone shows up.

>Mingle?

This is another open mingle for the beginning of the plot. NPC interaction will come later in the day.

setting
profiles

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I'll handle- [ "I'll handle it." is what he wanted to say but he never quite gets the chance to, before breaking down into a coughing fit. It's not too surprising; he never usually talked this much and even the added stress of that affects his body.

He turns away again, poorly disguising the blood now on his hands.]

[This is more blood than Takao has seen in one place in a long time. Maybe ever? Yeah, actually, that incident in eighth grade with the rice cooker involved different layers of skin, not the surface so much. In Shutoku there were finally (finally) coaches working the players until they puked, but almost all of them had plenty of food in their stomachs beforehand, and even the poor bastards who'd skipped lunch could usually dilute things with some acid. He's not quite sure what to do. Letting Yoite handle it seems even more stupid now than it did before. On the other hand, pointing out his weakness would probably hurt his pride as a man, and what kind of asshole would do that.

In news that is totally unrelated (it's not), Takao has a bunch of paper wrappers in his pocket from all these little sandwiches he's eaten (he presumes Yoite consumed much less or perhaps none at all). However, these dumb old-fashioned clothes do not have pockets nearly as deep as the athletic shorts to which Takao is accustomed. So he's running out of space in these pockets sooner than he expected. That's his reason for taking these papers out of his pocket and putting them down on the bench.

He doesn't make eye contact.]

[ This was the path he had chosen.

Momentarily the coughs subside and a few moments thereafter he catches his breath. Though it takes him a few moments he spots the wrappers, and after hesitating a moment, picks up a handful to use them. Despite the circumstances he's actually grateful--his gloves were important to him, one of the ways he shielded himself.]

...you're still here. [ He'd like to tell himself that he would move away if he had the energy to, but he's not so sure lately. Ever since he had begun to lose his senses, the barrier he had built between himself and others had slowly begun to crack.]

If you think a guy like me gets to be a starting member of a final four team by leaving practice early, I don't know what to tell you.

[Not that someone as withdrawn as Yoite would ever look into the top basketball schools, any more than Takao has ever heard of Yamaboshi. It's really weird how this is working out so far. Takao has an inferiority complex that anyone can see hanging around his neck, but in tenth grade he'd gotten kind of used to at least mattering a little, contributing something.]

Of course I wanna go back, but right now I don't have anywhere I can actually go where I'd rather be, you know?

....what? [ He doesn't understand at all. Even if he got what Takao was suggesting behind his words, he still wouldn't understand. He coughs again, but at least this time he has the makeshift napkins, and the episode is brief.]

You shouldn't be by me. [ Especially in a place like this, if what the woman had said was to be believed. Most of them would die, she had said. But he was already dying, so that changed little: but what about for someone who wasn't? This body, the grim reaper, brought death everywhere it went.]

I definitely feel a hell of a lot safer around you than anybody who'd set off magic bazookas in such a small building.

[YOITE IS DECENT AND COOL AND DOESN'T CAUSE EXPLOSIONS!!! EVER!!!]

Seriously, is it like tuberculosis or something? [That would explain the coughing, a slight deviation from his "already dying" and "do you get sick" assumption of, like, cancer or some other chronic illness - he hadn't really assumed contagious or anything.] Cause then I'll wear a mask or whatever. They probably have those in that clinic place. [Actually Takao hadn't explored that place too thoroughly, so he's not technically sure - it's creepy, he'd expected some doctor keeping them there for an experiment to come barreling out of a surgical theater with a bonesaw.]

You don't know who I am. [ Though he wasn't sure what magic bazookas were, in laymans terms he was a simple hitman for the Grey Wolves.

He shakes his head.]

It's not. It's just... me. [ That was the simple truth, even if he refrained from going into details.]

Okay, sure, I'll give you that. I don't know who anyone else is here either. I do know you care about your friend enough to look for him just as much as an actual way outside, and you eat as much as any other athlete whenever you're social enough to actually get around to it.

[What does that prove? Takao finds himself tearing his eyes away to scan the room for any emergent threats. Yoite seems safer to him, on gut feeling, not least because carrying out a murder and plotting to frame another person would be too much effort.]

I mean, yeah, Miata-san has made us all sure to not trust each other one hundred percent. I just think, wouldn't trusting people zero percent be stupid too? What are we gonna learn about what to do if we keep thinking "I can't trust what I hear at all", you know? That's only my first thought after all this shit got dumped on us,though.

[Yoite's not really sure how to reply to all of that, except to refute the simplest thing.]

I'm not an athlete. [But even he knows that Takao is expecting more than that.]

...just don't be kind to me. [ It's a small acceptance of his continued presence, even if it sounds very much like a pushback. He's too exhausted, too tired, to put up much of a fight at the moment. Still the small things (the non too discrete napkins, not demanding answers), he appreciates, much like he appreciated the small things Yukimi did.

Yukimi knew what he was, though.]

[Takao can't help grinning at this point - his lips briefly crack open to show teeth, straight albeit a little discolored this late in the day. Yeah, he won't squabble anymore about the definition of "athletic" or "deadly to me personally". He'll take what he can get, especially when it comes to the illusion of closeness in this strange, isolated place. Who is Yoite, really? Does it matter to him? Maybe Yoite is thinking of it more as what is Yoite. That's a pretty pathetic thought process, and Takao would prefer a happier one. The issue is simple as that.]

People usually ask me the opposite, but I'll see what I can do.

[This means a prank war, clearly. That's the single most logical interpretation of the words that Yoite said.]

[ The reaction confuses him: why would that make him happy? For a few moments all Yoite can do is stare. But he nods, accepting that he's not fighting him on that at least (or as far as he understands it.]

I'm going. [ He stands, looking relatively stable despite his physical condition.]

There's no point in being here anymore. I've heard what she has to say.[ Though that was largely the reason, he still wasn't used to talking this much.]

Well, you've got a point there too. See ya later, then. I'll try to let you know if anything else important comes up.

[He takes a few steps back towards the clustering of the other guests. It's going to be an endurance game, apparently. How long they can hold out against the motives. As much as Takao might like to run away, he can't.]

[ This was weird. Everything was weird here.]

Goodbye. [ As strange as it was, he would be on surer footing when the murders started happening.]

week 0 - introduction

no subject

emetophobia cw (vague)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject